


Goodnight, Sweetheart

by PotionsMistressM



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-04
Updated: 2012-12-04
Packaged: 2017-11-20 06:02:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/582089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PotionsMistressM/pseuds/PotionsMistressM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rumplestiltskin gives Belle something to sleep in.  Written for onceuponaland's Bingo for the prompt "polka dot shorts."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Goodnight, Sweetheart

"All I want to know," she began, barely able to form words around the grin that she couldn't seem to repress, "is where in the world you got these, and why." His eyes lit up at her amusement, his face nimbly springing into the mischievous imp she remembered so well. He pointed a finger theatrically to the ceiling, his tried and true I'm-in-teaching-mode-now gesture.

"That, dearie, is two things." Belle narrowed her eyes at him, unable to even feign impatience when she held such a completely and utterly ridiculous piece of clothing. She had to hand it to him. The evening had held an extraordinary potential to be insufferably awkward, and with a single, tiny gift he had somehow made her erupt into a fit of giggles.

The shorts were... _short_. Shorter even than the dress he'd given her earlier, and they were cut for a female. At least she hoped they were. They were tiny, with legs slanted up towards the outside of the thigh. A man wearing these would not be covering much.

Then again, neither would a woman. But at least a woman didn't have any dangling bits.

"They're absurd," she mused, turning them over in her hands. They were snowy white, but with large, bright circles splattered over them in a random pattern. And to add to the chaos, the words "MARCHING KNIGHTS" were emblazoned across the backside in strong blue letters. The shorts were... _cheerful_ , and even if she ignored the little monster that rumbled in her chest when she wondered why Rumplestitlskin would have a pair of women's shorts, she still could not account for the disconnect between the vibrant colors and Rumplestiltskin. She looked up at him quizzically, still unable to keep a completely straight face.

"I sponsored the marching band's program last year," he huffed, bored with the subject already. "Some genius, probably trying to make nice with me, gave me a huge basket full of things I could never possibly need as a thank you. I have a matching coffee mug I'll show you in the morning."

Belle nodded as if she'd understood (this was a strange, strange world) and clutched the shorts to her chest, along with the plain white undershirt he'd given her to wear as pajamas.

"Right. I'm going to go take a shower."

****  
If there was one thing in this new world that Belle could definitely get used to, it was indoor plumbing. Besides the fact that it made the every day functions of human beings so much more endurable, the nearly inexhaustible supply of hot water was a luxury she was pretty sure she would never take for granted. Of course there had been a shower in the asylum, but she'd only been released from her cell and shuffled toward the tiny, dark and dank hole of a bathroom once in a while, and when she did manage to wash herself it was always in freezing water that somehow never actually managed to make her feel clean.

She sighed and stretched beneath the steady stream of Rumplestiltskin's shower. Unlike her previous attempts at bathing in this world, she was sure she would actually end up looking half-way human after this one. She read and re-read all of the bottles lined along the edge of the tub and spent an inordinate amount of time running the slippery shampoo and conditioner through her hair. She frowned every time she found a knot or a curl so mangled she was sure it would have to be cut out. Belle had never been a vain thing, but her hair had always been the one thing she took a little bit of pride in. She might not want Rumplestiltskin to kill Regina for locking her up, but if she had to cut her hair shorter than Rumple's own because of the rat's nest her captivity had induced, she might just reverse her decision.

After some consideration, she grabbed Rumplestitlskin's razor as well. It seemed a bit of an invasion, considering he used the thing on his face, but in the end she decided that her use of it was as much for him as it was for her. And after all, she had absolutely no concept of monetary value in this world, but after seeing his fine suits and large home she had a feeling that if he needed a new razor blade there would be no trouble procuring one. She was halfway done shaving her second leg when the water began to turn chilly, so she hurried up her task. The water turned so cold it was biting in the last seconds, and Belle yelped as she darted in and out of the spray long enough to turn the water off. 

Shivering, she jumped out of the tub and immediately wrapped herself in one of the giant, soft and fluffy towels Rumplestiltskin had laid out for her. For someone who'd worn the same rags and slept on the same stiff cot for twenty-eight years, the luxurious fabric was extraordinary. She pulled the towel up to her face, inhaling its clean scent and being comforted by its warmth. Following some of the same logic that had justified her use of Rumplestiltskin's razor and adding in the fact that he'd already had his tongue in her mouth, so how different could it be?, Belle picked up his toothbrush. The cool mint of the toothpaste was the perfect cap on the well-being her bathing and grooming had brought about. She took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly and calmly. There were still things ( _oh, so many things_ ) she needed to know about this world, and so many things she and Rumplestiltskin needed to figure out between them, but for tonight it was enough to be clean, warm, and unafraid.

After she'd dried herself and combed her hair in way she hoped would lead to it drying in a manageable state, Belle set to work on getting dressed. She figured out the shirt- an old white tank top Rumplestiltskin had mentioned he wore as an undershirt- fairly quickly. It was similar in function to the tunic she'd lived in in the asylum, if not in shape. The shorts, however, were a different story. 

It wasn't as though she was _confused_ by them; she knew how they were supposed to go on, and how they were supposed to work. And they were so incredibly soft- softer even than the towels. Rumplestiltskin had called them "fleece," but they didn't feel like anything she'd ever felt in the old world. But they were so very, very _short_. If did nothing, they fell to rest just at her hip bones, exposing a strip of her stomach where it failed to meet the hem of the tank top. If she pulled them up enough to cover her stomach they were so short she could feel the bottom of her backside falling out. Belle squinted at her reflection. She was working as hard as she could to become accustomed to this new world, but the fashion was something she'd definitely have to get used to. It wasn't _bad_ , exactly... there was just so little of it to work with. Even with her misgivings, though, Belle felt a tiny thrill as the heater kicked on and she felt a whisper of the forced air over all of her exposed skin. In the old world an ankle-length dress would have been outright scandalous. From what she'd seen in this one, as long as a woman's bits and pieces were covered anything was fair game. It was terrifying and exhilirating at the same time. Turning to the side and checking herself out in the mirror one last time, Belle flicked off the light switch (that _is useful_ ) and left the bathroom.

****

It was strange that Rumplestiltskin could look just as imposing in pajamas as he ever had in dragon hide and all that leather, but Belle couldn't help smiling as she looked in on him as he prepared himself for bed, arranging different devices she couldn't name and attaching them to the wall with long strings. His attention was occupied, and Belle took the chance to study him, this new Rumplestiltskin, for a moment. His hair was so much softer here, his features so much more human. Still, there was something so incredibly _Rumplestiltskin_ about him, even in his faded charcoal gray t-shirt and flannel pants of some sort of delicate black and red tartan. Yes, there was still an air of menace about him, but everything about him looked soft, cuddly... snuggly... 

Belle stifled a grin as she knocked on the door frame. Human he may be, but _snuggly_ was probably an adjective better never spoken aloud in front of him. Hearing her knock, Rumplestiltskin looked up in her direction. His features softened into the kind of half smile only she seemed to be able to bring out of him, and he greeted her with the same strange, short, quiet, "hey," he'd used several times earlier today. For some reason that tiny word melted her heart. So familiar, so casual... it seemed special to her to have reduced the consumate wordsmith to a single syllable.

She smiled as she entered his bedroom, loving the feel of his thick carpet under her bare feet. 

"I just came to say goodnight. And also, you're probably going to need more shampoo. And a new razor."

"We can get you whatever you like tomorrow," he promised, moving to close the space between them. "You can't go to bed, though." Belle looked up at him, confused. When they'd arrived at his house he'd shown her a small but well-appointed guest room with a big, very comfortable-looking bed and told her it was hers as long as she wanted it. Was he backing out now? Had he changed his mind and was really going to make her leave after all? He smiled mischievously at her and snapped his fingers. "Can't go to bed with wet hair, dearie. You'll catch your death of cold." 

The sudden lightness around her shoulders was all the proof Belle needed to know that he'd magically dried it for her, and she could not help but smile.

"Thank you," she murmurred, trying hard not to show too much amused appreciation. She _was_ supposed to be unhappy about his use of magic, wasn't she?


End file.
